SIENNA.

I stared out the window to look at Belinda's retracting back, her warm hug still lingered on my skin. I made sure she was safely inside the apartment before turning away from the window.

Zane sat beside me, his hands gripping the steering wheel as he drove us to the penthouse. The air between us was heavy with awkwardness, so thick I could slice a knife through it. My body ached to lean closer, but I clenched my fists instead. After tonight, maybe I could earn Zane's trust, but not at that moment.

Behind us, Jason's car trailed. Zane had insisted on this arrangement, him driving me while Jason followed. I shifted in my seat and stole a glance at Zane. I caught the flicker of his gaze in the rearview mirror, checking on Jason's car.

The radio crackled to life as Zane reached for the dial, his fingers brushing the controls with a casual grace that made my breath hitch. A country song spilled out. I turned my head, pretending to study the passing storefronts, but my pulse thrummed in my ears, betraying me. His fragrance filled the car, wrapping around me until I could barely think. I wanted to hate him for the way he made my body betray my mind, but hating Zane was like trying to hate a storm. It just was.

The country song faded, replaced by a talk show host's overly cheerful voice. "Good evening, folks! It's Tuesday, August 5, and we've got a great show lined up for you this evening..."

The date hit me like a fist to the chest on August 8th. My parents' death anniversary. The air in the car suddenly seemed to thin, making my lungs struggle to pull in a full breath. I pressed my hand to my chest as memories of the tragic night popped up in my head. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing the images away to no avail.

"Are you okay?" Zane asked. I didn't miss the concern in his voice.

I opened my eyes. "Yeah. Just... thinking."

Just then an idea sparked through my grief as we drove near a cathedral. There was a cathedral nearby. Like most cathedral buildings, they always have a back exit that could lead me out, away from Zane and Jason's watchful eyes. If I could get there, I could slip away to meet the Scarred-faced Man. Alone.

"I need to stop somewhere," I said, turning to Zane. "There's a cathedral nearby. St. Peters. Today's... It's the anniversary of my parents' deaths. I want to pray for them."

His eyes flicked to me, making my heart stutter, but I held his gaze, letting my lips quiver just enough to let out my unshed tears.

"Sienna... I am sorry about that." His voice softened, but there was an edge to it. "It's not safe out there. Can you do it at the house?"

"I need it to be at the cathedral, Zane. It's their anniversary" I insisted, leaning forward, letting my hand brush his arm. The contact sent a jolt through me, and I saw his jaw tighten. "Please, Zane. It's just a church. I'll be quick. Jason can come with me."

He exhaled sharply through his nose, his fingers flexing on the wheel. For a moment, I thought he could see through the flimsy excuse. But then he nodded. "Fine. But you stay close to Jason. No wandering off. Understand?"

I nodded. "Crystal, thank you."

Zane pulled into the parking lot, the gravel crunching under the tires, with Jason's headlights behind us. Zane cut the engine, then turned to me, his eyes locking onto mine, and for a moment, I couldn't breathe well.

"Don't do anything stupid, Sienna," he said, "I'll be expecting you out here in twenty minutes."

I nodded, not trusting my voice, and pushed the door open. I stepped out, making my way toward the cathedral's towering doors. Jason's heavy footsteps trailed me, but I kept my steps steady. I couldn't let him see the plan taking shape in my mind.

Inside the cathedral, the air was thick with the scent of wax and incense. I moved toward the front pew and knelt at one near the altar. I bowed my head, pretending to pray. My lips moved, forming silent words, but my mind was mapping the cathedral's layout. The ladies' room was to the left, down a narrow hallway lined with confessionals. Beyond it was a side exit that led to an alley. If I could get there without Jason noticing, I could make it to the meeting point.

I stole a glance over my shoulder. Jason stood near the entrance, his eyes scanning the pews. When his attention drifted, he turned to check the doors. I rose and walked toward the hallway.

I passed a confessional and the ladies' room was just ahead. I glanced back at Jason, who was still at the entrance, his back to me, checking his phone. I slipped into the ladies' room and swung the door shut behind me with a soft thud. I moved quickly as I pushed open the faucet while I pushed the window above the sink. I hoisted myself up.

The alley outside was dark. I landed softly, my heels sinking into the gravel, and froze, listening for footsteps and shouts. Nothing. Clearly, Jason hadn't noticed yet. I forced myself to move, sticking to the shadows as I hurried down the alley. The meeting point was the warehouse by the river. The Scarred-faced Man would be there, waiting.

The Scarred Face Man had been to come alone, or the deal was off. I couldn't risk Jason or Zane finding me. Not now, when I was so close.

֍

The cathedral's spires faded behind me as I turned a corner. My heels clicked too loudly against the pavement. The warehouse was three blocks away, if I could just get there without Jason or Zane catching up. The alley opened onto a lone street, and I slowed down as I approached the door to the warehouse. Its metal surface felt slick under my fingers. The hinges made a funny sound as I pushed it open, the sound echoing in the cavernous space inside. Dust hung thick in the air, catching the faint light of a single bulb swinging from the ceiling. I stepped inside let the door creak shut behind me.

The silence in the warehouse was broken only by the drip of a leak somewhere in the shadows. I moved deeper into the warehouse, my eyes darting to every corner for any movement.

A soft scrape broke the silence, like a boot scuffing against concrete. I stood, as my body tensed up. A figure emerged in the dim light. My breath caught with relief when I recognized him. He was here. The Scarred Face Man. He stepped closer like a predator sizing up its prey.

"Sienna," he said. "You came alone?"

I nodded, my throat tight. "Yes. Just like you said."

His lips twitched, and he tilted his head, studying me. "Good. You're smarter than I thought." He stepped closer, and I fought the urge to back away. I held my ground.

He opened his mouth to speak, but before the words could form, the door behind him groaned open. My heart stopped. The Scarred Face Man's eyes narrowed, his hand dropping to his side, and I turned, dread pooling in my stomach.

A figure stepped into the light, his silhouette was a presence that filled the room.

Zane.

Fury erupted in my chest. He had followed me. Of course, he had. He had ruined everything. Everything I had risked was shattered in an instant.

"You traitor!" The Scarred Face Man's voice cut as He stepped back, his scar twisting as his face contorted with rage. "You brought him here? You think you can play me?" His hand moved, and I caught the glint of his gun. My stomach lurched, but I couldn't tear my eyes from Zane.

"I didn't..." I started, but the Scarred Face Man cut me off.

"You'll pay for this, Sienna. You'll feel our wrath. We don't forget." He backed toward the door, his eyes darting between me and Zane. "This isn't over." With a final glare, he turned and bolted, his footsteps echoing as he disappeared into the warehouse.

He was gone, my chance slipping through my fingers, and Zane stood there, silent, and that only fueled my anger. I spun on him, my fists flying before I could stop myself. They connected with his chest, hard and unyielding, the impact jarring my wrists. I hit him again and again.

"How could you?" I screamed, "You ruined everything! Everything!" My fists pounded against him. He didn't move or flinch. He just stood there, letting me rage.

"Why?" I whispered. "Why couldn't you just let me go?"

He opened his mouth, but before he could speak, a sound cut through the silence. Zane's eyes snapped toward the noise, his hand moving to his side. Someone else was there with us.

ZANE.

Sienna had charged at me before I could speak, her small fists slamming into my chest with a force that surprised me. Each hit landed with a dull thud, her knuckles grazing the leather of my jacket. I stood still, letting her rage, letting her pour every ounce of her frustration into me. A laugh bubbled up in my throat, not because I thought her anger was funny, but because she had no idea how close she had come to dying that night.

Her mischievous plan to sneak out of the cathedral, meeting that scar-faced bastard in this rotting warehouse, was so reckless it bordered on suicide, yet I had allowed her to carry on like I didn't know. Jason had informed me the second she strolled out, and I had given him the order to step down, just to see how deep she was going to go. If my brothers hadn't walked in when they did, if I hadn't followed her, she would be a body on the floor, not a fury throwing punches.

"Zane, you ruined everything!" She yelled while her fists continued to land on my chest. Her hair fell loose from its knot, strands sticking to her sweat-dampened forehead, and her eyes glistened with tears she refused to let fall. I wanted to grab her wrists and shake some sense into her, but I stayed rooted, my arms at my sides. She needed this, needed to burn through the anger before she could hear me enough to understand the danger she was in.

The door behind me creaked, and my hand twitched toward the gun at my hip, but I let it drop as I recognized our company. Damian, Liam, Ethan, and Noah quietly made their way in, my brothers. Relief flickered in my chest, but I kept my eyes on Sienna. She froze mid-swing, her breath hitching as she registered their presence too, her gaze darting past me to the four figures stepping into the light.

They had come because I had called them, partly because I wanted them to see she was not hiding anything that could threaten our empire. She was merely playing with her cards in a very foolish way. Mostly because I knew Sienna's stunt would land her in deeper shit than she could handle. And I was right. Just like Belinda had hinted, she was headed on a deadly path, and I needed the rest to see her for what she was and not misjudge her.

Sienna's fists dropped, but the fire in her eyes didn't dim. "What are they doing here?" She was trembling with something that wasn't just anger anymore. She stepped back, her gaze flicking between me and my brothers.

I couldn't help it, as she acted like our prisoner, caught in the act of trying to escape. I laughed again, the sound echoed in the space.

"What is funny?" She yelled at me.

"You think this was about me ruining your plan?" I said, "You think you were outsmarting everyone, sneaking out to meet that bastard?" I pulled the tablet from my jacket, the screen already glowing with the images I had been sent minutes ago. My thumb swiped across it, pulling up the first photo, and I held it out to her.

Her eyes narrowed, then widened as she took in the image. It was a body sprawled in an alley, blood pooling beneath a shaved head, a rifle lying just out of reach. "See that? He's a hired sniper. One of the three my brothers had taken out around the warehouse before I had even stepped inside." I swiped again, showing her the second, then the third, all positioned to take her out. The second she showed her face after their deal.

Her breath hitched, her hand flew to her mouth, and for the first time, I saw the realization hit her. She knew she had been played. "The Scarred Face Man hadn't come to give you answers; he had come to end you. You trusted them. You thought you could walk into their trap and walk out with secrets."

I stepped closer, close enough to feel the heat of her, to see the way her lips trembled, the way her eyes flickered with shame and fear. "If I hadn't followed you, and we were not here, you would be dead."

She shook her head, her hands balling into fists again, but she didn't swing this time. Her gaze dropped to the tablet, then back to me, and I saw the fight drain out of her. "I... I didn't know," she whispered.

Damian stepped forward. "You're in deep, Sienna," he said, "Deeper than you can realize. The cartel you're tangled with doesn't play trivia games. You're either with us, or you're with them. Pick a side. Now."

Her eyes flicked to him, then to Liam, Ethan, Noah, and back to me. I could see the gears turning in her mind.

"I..." She swallowed, then pulled out a flash drive from her bag. She held it out, her fingers shaking while her eyes locked on mine. "This is everything I have been keeping. Names, dates, locations. The cartel's plans. I thought... I thought I could use it to get out and be free."

"You're not free yet, but you're with us now. That's a start." Liam snorted,

Damian pushed off the crate. "About time she picked a side," he muttered, but there was no real venom in it anymore. Ethan and Noah nodded.

"We need to move," Noah said, glancing at the door. "This place isn't safe. They will know she didn't die, and they will come for her again."

I nodded, my hand resting on Sienna's arm, guiding her toward the door. She didn't resist, but I felt the tension in her, the way her muscles coiled under my touch. She was scared, maybe even ashamed, but she was with us now. That was enough. For now.

I kept my hand on her arm, not tight, but firm enough to let her know I wasn't letting her out of my sight again.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I pulled it out to see that the screen showed an unknown number. The text was short, but the content was all I needed.

My grip tightened on Sienna's arm, and she looked up at me, questioning, "What is it?"

"Belinda's in trouble. They know you betrayed them."

"Oh my God!" Sienna screamed, clasping a palm over her mouth.

֍ ֍ ֍

ZANE.

My body reverted to Sienna's tantrum, her fists pounded the headrest in front of her, each was a dull thud that echoed in the vehicle. Her screams pierced through the silence nonstop.

"You're just going to keep sitting there, Zane. You don't care that they have got Belinda?" Her voice cracked as she twisted in her seat.

I gripped the armrest, speeding through the streets. Sienna didn't understand and despite how hard I wanted to explain, she couldn't. The cartel wasn't some street gang we could storm with guns blazing. They were a calculated group whose every move played was designed to draw blood. Rushing into their hideout would be like walking into their plan. Belinda was alive, for now. That was the only leverage we had, and I wasn't about to squander it on Sienna's impulsive rage.

"Zane, say something. I hate this unbothered silence." Sienna's voice hit a new pitch, loud enough to make my ears ring. She slammed her palm against the seat, "We need to go now! She's my sister!"

Damian, who was behind the wheel, let out a low whistle, hunching his broad shoulders. His eyes flicked to mine in the rearview mirror, but he didn't say a word. He didn't have to; I knew that look. He was one frayed nerve away from snapping. "This chick's going to make me crash," he muttered, barely audible over Sienna's yelling.

I didn't respond since my gaze was fixed back on her, whose face Sienna was flushed, with fury out of fear for Belinda's fate. Her hands trembled as they balled into fists. I wanted to pull her close to tame that wildness. But that was a dangerous thought. Not when she was out of comprehension of what the danger was.

I needed to focus on the cartel's method of operation, which was always the same. They bait, trap, then eliminate. They had taken Belinda to lure us into making a mistake. I could see it unfolding in my mind, their hideout, which was always a nondescript warehouse on the edge of the city with snipers. Men who would kill without blinking. I had made the same call enough to know the playbook. They wanted us emotional and reckless. Sienna was giving them exactly what they needed.

"Zane!" Her scream snapped me back. She lunged across the seat, her fingers touching my jacket. "Why aren't you listening? We have to save her."

I caught her wrists. "Sienna, stop for a minute. You're not thinking straight. If we go in now, we're dead. Belinda's dead. You want that?"

Her eyes widened, a flash of hurt cutting through the anger. She yanked her hands free. "Don't you dare put that on me," she hissed. "You're the one who's stalling. You're supposed to call the shots, right? So why are you acting like a spineless..."

"Enough!" Damian's voice cut her off. He jerked the wheel slightly, the SUV swerving just enough to make us sway. "I'm done with this noise." His hand dipped into the console, and before I could react, he pulled out a sleek tranquilizer gun. The move was practiced like he had done it repeatedly. He caught my eye in the mirror again. He had a single raised brow asking for permission.

Sienna was too caught up in her fury to notice. I gave Damian a subtle nod quickly. He didn't hesitate as he pressed on the tranquilizer gun, it hissed off a soft puff of air, and a dart buried itself in Sienna's thigh.

She froze, her mouth half-open, "What the-" she managed to say before her eyes fluttered. Her body slumped, and I caught her just as her head dropped forward. Her head fell on my shoulder. I adjusted her carefully, cradling her neck so it wouldn't strain. The silence that followed was rewarding for our despicable action.

Damian let out a long, exaggerated sigh as he relaxed his shoulders. "Thank Christ," he muttered, tossing the tranquilizer gun back onto the console. "Women are always a damn mess. Screaming, crying, making everything harder than it needs to be."

I didn't answer. I brushed my fingers through Sienna's hair, the strands felt silky under my touch. She looked peaceful now since her features had softened. The angry fire in her eyes was now hidden behind her closed lids.

My chest tightened in a pull I couldn't ignore. She was beautiful, even in her chaos, and that was the problem. She made me feel things I couldn't afford to feel. Not now. Not when the cartel was waiting for us to slip.

The thought didn't stop me from tracing the curve of her jaw with my eyes. I memorized the way her lips parted slightly as she slept. She was a damsel, sure, but not the kind who waited quietly for rescue. She was a fighter and I was her anchor whether I liked it or not.

Damian kept talking, his voice distracting me from my vain thoughts. "You gotta admit, she's got guts. Stupid, but gutsy. Charging into a cartel hideout? Your girl's got a death wish." He chuckled, shaking his head. "You sure you can handle her, man?"

I ignored him, my focus back on Sienna. Her snore grew softer, and I shifted to keep her steady as the SUV hit a bump. My hand lingered in her hair, and I let myself imagine, just for a second, what it would be like to wake up to that sound every morning.

I shoved the thought down, locking it away. The cartel didn't care about my feelings, and neither could I.

My mind drifted back to the problem at hand. Belinda. The cartel had her, and they weren't playing for small stakes. They had taken her to send a message that we couldn't double-cross them without a reaction. One wrong step, and we'd all be dead.

The city became flooded with sensory light as we reached the penthouse. Damian pulled into the underground garage, the SUV's tires squealing faintly on the polished concrete. Sienna stirred, letting a soft murmur escape her lips, but she didn't wake. I lifted her carefully, her body felt light in my arms, and carried her toward the elevator. Damian followed silently.

The elevator hummed as it climbed, the numbers ticking up too slowly. Sienna's head rested against my chest, her breath warmed through my shirt. I caught myself watching her again.

The elevator dinged, the doors sliding open to the penthouse entrance. I carried Sienna to the leather couch just inside, laying her down gently. Her hair fanned across the cushion, and I resisted the urge to brush it back. Damian leaned against the wall, watching me with a smirk. "You're in deep, brother," he said. "Hope you know what you're doing."

"Shut up," I muttered when Sienna stirred. She shouldn't be up until we have a plan ready. That was the only way she would forgive us for sending her to sleep without her consent.

SIENNA.

Darkness swirled around me, thick and heavy, like I was drowning in an abyss. My body felt weightless, but my mind clawed at fragments of memory. The world tilted, and suddenly I was back in that dimly lit office that had Thompson Baxter's cologne. Colorado.

His rough hands were on me, and I could feel his breath hot against my neck. My stomach churned with bile rising as I shoved against him. I wanted to scream, but my voice felt trapped in my throat. His laughter filled the room as his fingers dug into my arms.

He grabbed me, his hands pinning me against his desk. "You're not going anywhere," he growled, his body pressing against mine. I fought, my nails clawing at his arms, my knee aiming for his groin, but he was stronger and his weight was crushing me. Panic clawed at my throat. I screamed, but the office was soundproof, making it futile.

The door burst open, and Belinda was standing, holding a fire extinguisher in her hands. "Get off her!" she shouted, swinging it at his head without hesitating. That sent him staggering. He roared, turning toward her, but she didn't flinch, swinging again, this time catching him across the back of his leg. He collapsed, blood trickling from his leg. I scrambled free and I stumbled toward Belinda. She dropped the extinguisher, pulling me into her arms. "You're okay, SiSi. I've got you."

I clung to her, my sobs muffled against her shoulder, my legs barely holding me up. "How... how did you know?" I gasped.

"I was dropping off your jacket," she said, her arms tightening around me. "Saw his car, figured you were working late. Then I got to the door and heard you scream." Her voice broke, and I felt her tears against my hair. "I'm so sorry I wasn't here sooner. We're family, Sienna. Always."

I shook my head, pulling back to meet her eyes, "You saved me. Again."

A loud banging sound came from around me, and my memory suddenly shifted, and Belinda's face faded. A scream built in my lungs. "Belinda!" The name tore from my throat as my eyes snapped open. I was no longer in Thompson's office in Colorado.

My head throbbed with a faint ache. I blinked repeatedly, trying to make sense of where I was. Where was Belinda? Some voices murmured nearby and I turned my head, wincing as a dull ache pulsed behind my eyes. Zane sat at his desk, while his eyes flickered between his brothers. Damian, Liam and Ethan stood near a window. I was at the penthouse and in Zane's study. How did I get here?

My gaze darted back to Damian, and a spark of memory ignited and rage surged through me as I recalled he had drugged me. My best friend was out there, in the hands of those monsters, and he'd knocked me out like I was some nuisance to be silenced.

I lurched off the couch, my legs felt unsteady but was fueled by the rage I had coursing through me. "You bastard!" I screamed as I stumbled toward Damian. He raised an eyebrow, but I didn't care. I started to pound his shoulder repeatedly, "How dare you! You think you can just..."

"Enough!" Zane's voice cut through seconds before I felt him grab my raised fist, pulling me back. I spun to face him, surprised I hadn't even heard him walk that close.

"Let go of me!" I yanked my arm from his grip.

"You were out of control, Sienna," he said. "You were putting yourself and all of us at risk."

I laughed, "Risk? You want to talk about risk? My best friend is out there with the cartel, Zane and you..." I jabbed a finger at Damian, "You thought shooting me with a tranquilizer was the answer? You're all just sitting here, playing war games, while Belinda's probably..."

I paused to picture her terrified. I couldn't finish the sentence.

Zane's grip on my wrist loosened, but he didn't let go. "We're not just sitting here," he said, "We've got a plan."

I blinked, my anger faltering for a moment. "A plan?" My eyes darted between the brothers. Liam and Ethan had turned from the window to sit on the couch across from us.

"Yeah, princess," Damian said. "While you were napping, we did some actual work. We know where they're holding her."

My heart stuttered with hope. "Where? Is she okay? What do you know?" The questions spilled out as I stepped toward Damian, ignoring Zane's hand still hovering near my arm.

Liam spoke up, in his usual disarming voice. "It's a warehouse on the east side, near the docks. One way in, one way out. Heavily guarded, but we've got eyes on it. She's alive, Sienna."

"How do you know? What if they..."

Ethan stepped forward, "We've got a contact on the inside. They've seen her. She's... she's okay for now. They're keeping her as leverage, not..." He hesitated, his jaw tightening. "They're not hurting her. Not yet."

"Not yet?" I echoed. I turned to Zane, my hands dropping to my sides, "What does that mean, Zane? You know what they're capable of! You've seen it! And you're telling me we're just supposed to trust this 'plan' of yours?"

Zane's eyes darkened as he stepped closer. "We're not trusting blindly, Sienna. We mapped the warehouse, counted their men and their weapons. We know their patterns. But it's a choke point, one entrance, one exit. They'll see us coming a mile away. We have to be precise, or we're all dead. Including Belinda."

I shook my head, my chest tight with panic. "Precise? You think they care about precision? They've got my sister, Zane! What's the success rate of this plan? Tell me, honestly. What are the odds we get her out alive?"

Liam exchanged a glance with Ethan, then stepped forward, his hands raised in a calming gesture. "We've run the numbers, Sienna. We've got a solid chance, say seventy percent, maybe more. We're bringing in extra muscle, and we've got tech to jam their comms. It's not perfect, but it's the best shot we've got."

"Seventy percent? That's a thirty percent chance she dies, Liam! You think that's good enough?" My voice broke, and I turned away, my hands trembling.

The memory of Belinda saving me from Thompson flooded back, her fierce protectiveness and unwavering strength. She had always been there for me, and now, when she needed me most, I was stuck here, surrounded by men who thought in terms of percentages and plans.

Zane's voice cut through my spiraling thoughts. "Sienna, look at me." I didn't want to, but his tone pulled my gaze back to him. His eyes were intense. "I know you're scared. I know you want to run in there and tear the place apart. But that's what they want. They're counting on us to be reckless. We do this right, we get her out. We do it wrong, we could lose her. And I'm not letting that happen. Then you need to trust us. Trust me."

"Trust you?" I stepped closer. "You drugged me, Zane. You let Damian shoot me with a tranq like I'm some animal. How am I supposed to trust you when you treat me like that?"

Damian snorted, breaking the tension. "Oh, come on, princess. You were losing it. Screaming, hitting the car. We did you a favor."

I spun on him. "A favor? You think knocking me out was a favor?"

"Sienna." Zane said as he moved between me and Damian, his broad frame blocking my view. "He's right. You were out of control. But that's done. We're here now, and we're working to get Belinda back. You want to be part of this? Then stop fighting us and start listening."

I stared at him. A part of me wanted to tear through every obstacle until I reached Belinda. But another part knew he was right. I couldn't save her alone. Not against the cartel. "What's the plan?" I asked finally.

Ethan stepped forward, pulling a tablet from the desk. He tapped the screen, pulling up a blueprint of the warehouse. "One entrance here," he said, pointing to a narrow door. "It's a bottleneck, but we can use that. We go in quietly, disable their cameras, and take out the outer guards before they know we're there. Our contact says Belinda's in a holding room here." He tapped another section, a small square in the center of the layout. "Two guards, maybe three. We move fast, we can get her out before they raise the alarm."

I stared at the blueprint, my stomach twisting. It looked so simple on the screen, just lines and shapes, but I knew what it meant. Blood and Bullets. "And if they see you coming?" I asked. "If your contact's wrong? If there are more than three guards?"

Ethan hesitated, his eyes meeting Liam's. "We've got contingencies," Liam said. "Smoke grenades, flash bangs. We'll have backup outside, ready to move if things go south."

"Contingencies," I repeated,

"It's what we've got," Zane said. "We're not going in blind, Sienna. We've done this before. We know what we're up against."

Zane's hand touched my shoulder, "Sienna," he said. "I promise you, we're going to do everything we can. I'm not letting them take her from you."

I nodded, trusting him to keep his word. I had lost too many people. I couldn't lose Belinda either. She was all I had got in my corner.